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Biscuit

Following Toast’s recent arrival back at singledom, it seems that we are once again on a level pegging. In fact, if anything, I may be marginally ahead due to contacts made and groundwork done whilst Toast was with the Fez (if it’s possible to meaningfully qualify any marginal difference in our respective situations as ‘ahead’ or ‘behind’). On the flip-side, Toast has an extensive circle of female friends with beautiful and intelligent acquaintances they can introduce him to.

Yesterday I met up with a lady-friend who is back from Australia for a couple of weeks. I will refer to her as Scarlet for ease of reference. I have known Scarlet for many years as she is part of the extended circle of friends from the home town.

When I say, ‘friend’ I mean the kind of friend who I might have occasionally done naughty things with in the past. Actually, for a number of years I thought that we had fallen out following my ill chosen words on one particular night. I found out last year that she did not actually remember the incident at all (due to generally being fairly stoned around that time of her life) and so all my concern was, apparently, for nothing.

Scarlet left England to work in Australia last August. The night before she left we shared the naughtiest naughtiness so far, involving nakedness and everything. It was fun although, as mentioned before, my head was in no place at that time to connect with anyone so it was entirely physical.

Yesterday wasn’t really a date as such but in the spirit of rule 6 I am documenting it here. Mostly it involved sitting on a gloriously sunny beach with brief forays into:

eating ice creams,

sharing a some wine with a couple of other people,

eating pizza,

paddling in the outrageously far-away sea,

having a pint.

In short, it was a normal (sort of)-date. Nothing silly happened. There was a little kissing and it was nice. Rather nice actually. I like kissing and I get to enjoy precious little of it. In a way I kind of miss it more than sex. You can always compensate for lack of sex, but tonguing the opening of a closed fist is good for nothing except giving 7 year-olds totally the wrong idea about what kissing involves when their friend excitedly proclaims it nearly the same as the real thing.

As time wore on and the day drew a close it was time to leave the refreshing sea-breeze behind. I had already offered Scarlet a lift back to mine if she fancied a beer and continuing the entertainment. She was erring on the side of going home. Not because she wanted to but as her friends and family had booked up almost the entirety of her brief visit with a selection of social engagements and she had a horribly early morning to contend with.

I know from past experience that I could easily have swung her decision and her body language was clearly saying that she would prefer to come with me however, ever the gentleman, I opted to leave the choice with her. Had the situation been different I probably would have played it differently but the fact was that I didn’t feel particularly comfortable taking her back to where I live yesterday. Dragonforce (house-mate extraordinaire) had been decidedly off with me before I went to meet Scarlet and made it clear in no uncertain terms that she did not welcome me bringing her back.

Given this situation I really did not want to bring Scarlet round to face a potentially frosty atmosphere so left it. I dropped her off at her parent’s and came home. A while after I got back home Scarlet sent a text to the effect that she had been a spaz and should have made a different decision, but by then it was all rather late.

To be honest, I am rather surprised by how sad this missed opportunity has made me. Standing in the sea (admittedly the murky grey silty sea), and kissing whilst trying not to fall over as our feet sank into the mud, gave me the kind of excited tingles I have not felt in a long time. I’m not saying that I suddenly found myself the victim of a naked chubby archer with suspiciously small wings, I am just saying that it was exciting to kiss and just let go and feel it without the usual internal monologue that accompanies most of my life. Slipping your hand round someone’s waist as your lips touch is an incredibly underrated pleasure.

So in conclusion, even though it wasn’t really a date, marriage percentage: 22%

Sadly it looks like this might be the only time that I see her whilst she is here as the only other free day she has is Sunday and it’s DF’s birthday so I will be attending the family barbecue in the manner of a well-behaved flatmate.

On the plus side, Df and I are hitting the usual rock club haunt on Friday night this week so there are plenty of opportunities for silly blog-worthy shenanigans then. I will probably spill my drink on a girl or slip over on the dance floor at least.

I think perhaps before that it is the ideal juncture, especially with Toast becoming single again and examining his own priorities, to review the qualities I am looking for in a partner. Wicked Shawn and Txtingmrdarcy have counselled me that apparently “brightly colored hair and interest in robots” are not “specific attributes that qualify a spouse”. I will begrudgingly admit that perhaps there’s something in that.

Toast

I ended things. I hadn’t seen The Fez for a week or so. I really wanted to do things face to face but I wouldn’t be getting down until the party next weekend.

On Friday night she tried to call me, I was talking to my brother so I said I’d call her back. When I did call her back a bit later she wouldn’t answer and then sent a text message saying she didn’t want to talk to me. I called a couple more times and then left it for the day.

She eventually phoned me back on Saturday, in the afternoon. She talked at me for about five minutes about how upset she was at me for not calling her enough. Pretty much the first thing I said was ‘this isn’t working for me’.

She asked why and I didn’t tell her the truth (the reasons I’ll list below) because that would have been unpleasant. So I said I just felt like I was faking it for the past week, which is actually true as well.

The ranting continued for a bit with her calling me a few names and then we said goodbye. It wasn’t the most painful break-up but I did make a point of letting her say her piece and taking it on the chin.

The real reasons why it ended

I realised I wasn’t interested in what she had to say. I can talk to my female friends for hours on the phone but I came to dread calling her. It was stilted rather than rambling and giggling. That is not good.

This is going to sound weird but I’d like to end up with someone from another country. The more I think about it the more important it is to me to do something other than marry someone who is from 30 miles away from where I grew up. I worked hard to escape from that place. The Fez wanted to move back there.

I went on a much-needed break back home, didn’t see her for two weeks and was perfectly happy. I think that’s the moment I realised things were really broken.

Lessons learned

Clearly the criteria for marriage are more complicated than I thought. It’s always going to be a compromise, but clearly it takes a bit of time to find out if the person is suitable. You can’t think rationally about these things when you are in the first flushes of an affair.

So a new rule for me. No proposals in the first 90s days.

Bonus fact: I’ve never actually asked any one to marry me but I have been asked three times.

Toast

This is going to be the post that switches the blog from an amusing story we might joke about to friends into something I can never show the Fez.

Take a deep breath. Here we go.

We’ve been in a relationship for couple of months now, we have issues and it’s in the bedroom. We get on great and she is easy to spend time with but things involving nudity are less easy.

The Fez is very shy. She is a bit younger than me, and in my limited experience, body confidence comes a bit later in life for most women. I understand it can be a bit scary to be naked in front of someone especially for the first time.

But if there is one message I can get through to the women of the world is that all men are thrilled to see you naked. Really thrilled, delighted, amazed. They could spend whole hours just looking at you. Just by appearing naked you have made their day, week, month and possibly year. We all love the way women are shaped, it’s hardcoded into our brains.

The Fez is getting less shy around me, which is good. I’m constantly complimenting her amazing figure so she is getting a little bit more relaxed. She still turns around to remove a bra or tells me off if I look at her in the nano seconds as she dives under the covers but even that is an improvement.

The slightly more tricky issue is to do with sex. I’m very open-minded, I’ve worked for women’s magazines. I’ve had very frank conversations about sex with female chums over lunch that have caused nearby diners to choke on Matzo balls. There isn’t much that shocks me. The Fez has said she is a bit intimidated by that.

The problem is that so many things are now forbidden. Kissing may only happen on the face or upper body. Even attempting to go down stairs will result in an order to stop and a telling off with ‘that is disgusting’. I’m trying to be coy, but basically oral sex is off the menu, as is anything else apart from straight missionary in a bed. Rarely there may be a position swap but only on special occasions.

It’s stressing me out a bit and affecting other parts of our relationship. The thing is, a healthy sex life is important, especially when you are trying to choose someone to spend the rest of your life with. I understand that this period in a relationship is about learning about the person and things but I’ve never been out with someone before where so many things are just not allowed.

It’s not nice when you suggest something which previous experience is perfectly reasonable (and actually a very nice thing to do for someone) and you get a bit told off so you feel like a deviant, and not in a sexy way.

I’ve spoken to Biscuit about this and he thinks I should ask the Internets. So what do you think?

Toast

What to say eh? If you’ve got any sense you will have read Scalene‘s account of the weekend. It covers most of it.

Although doesn’t quite get across the large amounts of booze consumed or the excellent bit in the morning where we forced Scalene to play Lady Gaga songs on the piano. That was aces.

We need to talk about DF, or as I now call her Cat’s Milk. Her actions weren’t a drunken mistake.

Eating a raw sauasage is a drunken mistake (I’ve done that) or trying to drink a glow stick is a drunken mistake (done that too). No her actions on Saturday night were a sustained campaign to stop any girls from being too interested in Biscuit.

Cat’s Milk either told bad stories about Biscuit or implied that they were in a relationship. She did it a lot.

I noticed it, The Fez noticed it and the Fez’s friends noticed it and it’s just not on. But let’s draw a line under the matter now.

The evening was fun. The Fez’s chums were all really late so by the time they appeared I was pretty drunk. I think I talked to them a bit. I can remember asking a biochemist how long away we were from developing unicorns. I took a lot of blurry photos of the inside of a pub and tried to organise a game of ‘who can stay in the freezing paddling pool for the longest’.

Biscuit

If you’ve read Scalene’s latest entry you would know that, assuming his readers didn’t tell him to bring a date, then he and I would be going head to head over the Fez’s single friends.

He appeared to have a headstart, as Dragonforce (DF) and I arrived at the pub at about 6, a good hour after he got there (this was due to having to ward off significant hangovers from the previous night’s Gin/Beer/Rum/Rock Band excesses).

After being greeted gleefully by Toast, Scalene and I were introduced. Between the smiles and the handshake we locked eyes with a mutual acknowledgement of each others’ significance. He’s a rather lovely chap but at no point did I forget that were in competition.

Edit: I should mention that, when we were discussing my taste in women, Scalene was particularly sporting in suggesting that I might like to meet a recently single lady friend of his who is known for her bright hair colours.

Although the Fez’s chums had turned up in force, the singletons were sadly absent. Eventually a single friend DID show. Single, attractive and interesting. As Scalene was chatting to DF I took the opportunity to make some headway.

After another drink or two we all retired to Chez Fez, stopping to pick up large quantities of animal bits on the way, for a BBQ and (paddling) pool party. Things were looking promising.

However… as the evening wore on a very worrying pattern emerged. I did not want to believe it at first, putting it down to banter and booze, but it became impossible to ignore.

Dragonforce was CLEARLY cock blocking me.

Initially I thought she was just slipping into ‘house’ style conversation (we live together) but after repeated bouts of this kind of ‘married’ banter, which is always rather off-putting to girls you are trying to woo, she started to drop real unavoidable clangers about some of my recent activities, notably the sisters episode. Toast and the Fez noticed it too.

Ultimately, whether that was the dealbreaker or not, the girl left without me making any further ground or securing a number. Although nothing is ever guaranteed, we had spent most of the night talking and in any similar situation I would have at least anticipated getting a number. But no.

In the morning Toast and I went to the shop and bought ridiculously calorific cereal and supplemented it with other delicious confectionery items for breakfast. We bought DF a lemon and a bottle of cat’s milk instead, as penance.

There is more to this story, but since there are several people involved I will let each tell his part.

Lesson for the day… hmm… perhaps it is:

– Don’t take DF out in social occasions with potential to meet single girls?

Toast

Right. I have a girlfriend. This is not unusual, but typically this situation only lasts for about six months. Then it goes wrong and I get some new material for a stand-up routine. So how do I tell if this girl is a keeper? What are the tests?

The Internet, help me out. What sort of things should I check before I get down on one knee? I know she should meet my friends so they can provide an objective assessment (I historically have terrible taste in women) and we should do the whole family thing, but what else?

At the moment I fancy her a lot, find her fascinating and like making her laugh but I’m not sure that is enough to go ring shopping. We need to work out a schedule of tests. Go Team!

Toast

The Fez visited. It was a success. The cottage was approved of, even if she did say it was the most manly house she had ever seen and said that I lived like a 12-year-old boy with a wage and no mum. I think this was a compliment more than a criticism.

I took her out for a few meals at the good places in town. When we didn’t go out we cooked together and we even managed a couple of walks. I learned about the different times of day for cake. Apparently a sponge cake is for during the day and a cheese cake is for the evening. I also realised how nice she is to be around.

A previous GF used to make me really stressed the whole time and there was none of that. Time with the Fez is easy and pleasant. Also the Fez didn’t mind if I picked her up, she liked the fact I could lift her with one arm and move her as if she weighed nothing. The previous ex used to get really angry when I did that. It was weird.

The Fez also started calling me Mr Tumnes. Let’s not go into why, I’m sure there are less sexy pet names but I can’t think of them right now. So I aimed for Tom Cruise and ended up as a slightly creepy satyr who doesn’t wear trousers and hangs around with kids. Brilliant.